


Santa Ubbe: Naughty or Nice

by ifinkufreaky



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Love Confessions, Single mom reader, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13107117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/ifinkufreaky
Summary: I promise this is not as cheesy as the title sounds. But it IS fluffy as hell and probably has too many Christmas puns. The reader is a single mom with a terrible crush on her friend Ubbe Lothbrok. He shows up in a Santa suit to impress her daughter and then things get pretty flirty after the child goes to bed...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pokeasleepingsmaug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokeasleepingsmaug/gifts).



> So I'm not sure exactly the right etiquette for a kid in a self-insert fic. I decided not to name her (Y/C/N = your child's name) but picked a gender for ease of narration. If anyone has an opinion about a better way, let me know so I can learn for next time.

It's a Friday night; the last weekend before Christmas. You’re spending it stretched out on the floor of the living room with your daughter, playing a very intense and competitive game of “Sorry!” when your phone chirps with a text.

_Hey, u at home?_

The message is followed by three smily face emojis. Your heart instantly starts racing, though you try to ignore that part. It’s from Ubbe Lothbrok, your new friend from the rock climbing gym, who has been fast becoming your closest companion. In a completely _platonic_ sense.

_Yeah, but I’ve got my daughter tonight, I can’t go out._

You add a little shrugging picture and hit send. Disappointment fizzles under your skin as you take your next turn in the game, Y/C/N looking up at you expectantly. You’re happy to be playing with her tonight, but you keep hoping this thing with Ubbe might turn out to be something more. Even though, after how much time you’ve spent together, you figure that if he hasn’t made a move by now he probably doesn’t see you that way.

Just about every evening that your ex has Y/C/N, you see Ubbe at the climbing gym. He always greets you with a huge smile and makes sure to offer to belay you when you’re ready to climb one of the longer routes. He’s a beast on the wall himself, glorious to watch as he bellows his way through difficult moves, but he’s not just some alpha meathead. He takes your advice well, and doesn’t talk down to you when you’re slowing down and considering your next move. You fell for him pretty much instantly.

Your gym friendship quickly turned to coffee meetups and movie nights, and Ubbe has spent plenty of family time with your daughter, too. But nothing physical has ever sparked, and you’re careful to avoid anything too awkward that might ruin the friendship. You know that he goes out to the bars a lot while you’re stuck at home with your daughter on weekends; he’s probably dating women whose schedules are a little more free to party all night.

Your phone chirps again.

_Perfect._

A string of Christmas-themed emojis appear on your screen next as you try to puzzle out why he’d be so happy that you have to stay in tonight.

_Is it alright if I stop by with a surprise? And don’t tell Y/C/N I’m coming._

And there goes your heart rate again, accompanied this time by a warmth spreading through your belly. Ubbe must have a Christmas present for her. How wonderful and thoughtful. Why does he have to just keep turning out to be the perfect guy?

“MOM!” your daughter screeches. You absently wonder how many times she had already tried to get your attention just now. “It’s your TURN!!”

 

You both jump when there’s a brisk knocking at the door. Ubbe usually rings the doorbell. You don’t know why you feel so jittery when you get up to answer it.

“Who is it Mom?” your daughter asks excitedly, scurrying around your legs to get there first.

There’s a glimpse of a red hat through the small window in the top of the door. You draw Y/C/N back with a hand on her shoulder as you twist the doorknob and pull it open.

“HO HO HO!” calls a jolly, deep voice as soon as the door cracks open. It’s obviously Ubbe, though he has done his best to commit to the role. He’s got a full Santa suit on, with a fake belly and a wide belt with an ornate buckle strapping in the pillowy girth. The Santa hat on his head is not a cheap one. Its cotton edging is fluffy and full, and compliments his fluffed-out blonde beard well. He’s not wearing a fake one; you figure he must have decided that his own was big enough. Ubbe’s ice-blue eyes are twinkling as bright as that famous old poem promises, and he drops a big burlap sack down on the porch so that he can bend over and invite your daughter to hug him with wide, gloved hands.

“Santa!!” she squeals, and jumps into his arms. Your daughter is old enough not to be fooled, but it brings the biggest, goofiest smile to your face to see her play along so enthusiastically.

“Merry Christmas,” he roars as he picks her up effortlessly. “I just had to make a special early trip to visit one of my favorite little girls!”

You don’t miss how his eyes land on you by the time he ends that sentence.

 

To your surprise, Y/C/N does not let Ubbe break character through his entire visit. You had thought she was getting too old to be excited about Santa, but she seems completely enamored of the game. Not that she doesn’t bust his balls a little, too.

“Santa,” she says seriously, taking his cheeks between her small hands. “Isn’t your beard supposed to be white?”

Ubbe doesn’t miss a beat. “I started dying it. Makes Mrs. Claus happy,” he replies, winking at you.

That burlap sack had three presents in it, and you don’t have a chance to do anything more than shake your head subtly at Ubbe as your daughter squeals in delight. He is entirely too generous. But you have to admit, he nailed the gifts. A doll from her favorite show – one of the only characters she doesn’t own yet – _and_ her whole accessory set, _and_ a tennis racket in her favorite color. He knew you’d signed her up for lessons in the new year. Watching the pure way he enjoys her excitement over the presents almost makes you want to cry. It’s just not fair that such a wonderful guy only thinks of you as a friend.

After sharing a snack and a three-way game of "Sorry!," your daughter even asks Santa to put her to bed tonight. You start to clean up as you listen to them joke and giggle their way up the stairs, and it seems he’s fallen for her endless cries of “just one more book” more than once judging by how long they’re up there. From what you can overhear, he’s pretty good at doing voices for all the characters. You look at the time with a dreamy smile on your face and head to the kitchen to start your last task of the night: baking cookies.

 

When you hear the fall of Ubbe’s boots finally coming back down the stairs, you indulge in a momentary fantasy that he lives here, that he puts her to bed every night, and that next he’s going to come into the kitchen and kiss you, his beard soft and sweet on your cheek. A thrill of nerves rushes through you when the real Ubbe steps into the room, like he caught you somehow.

“Cookies?” he asks, looking down at the mixing bowl in your hands.

“We’ve got a Christmas party at my mom’s tomorrow,” you explain. “Dad gets the actual holiday.”

Ubbe steps over to lean on the island counter across from you, red hat now cocked stylishly off the back of his head. The Santa costume does not actually make him any less attractive, even with the pillow padding his belly. “Same thing in my family, but it’s the opposite. Dad’s got kids from more than one marriage so he’s the one that gets us all together a weekend early.”

“So you know how it is,” you nod. “Practically all of December is just extra work and obligatory events. Y/C/N loves it, though. Just gotta finish these cookies now and I can finally relax.”

“Can I help?”

Ubbe’s eyes look so earnest, and perfectly blue as he offers. You look down at the bowl and start whipping the dough harder. There’s an odd rushing sound in your ears that’s making it hard to think. “No, don’t worry about it, there’s not much left to do.” As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you’re cursing yourself for missing an excuse to spend more time with the guy.

“Sure?” he asks, shifting his body closer. His arms are crossed and he’s resting most of his weight on the counter now.

You force yourself to be brave, look up at him and smile. “Well, I do have enough ingredients here for another batch, if you want to stick around? Then you can have some to take to your dad’s tomorrow, too.”

Ubbe’s answering grin just makes you want to melt into the floor. “Sounds great.” He reaches into your bowl to swipe up some of the dough with one finger, eyebrows jumping mischievously.

You turn to get another baking sheet, and when you come back around Ubbe has removed the Santa hat and slid the red jumpsuit off his shoulders. When he takes out the stomach padding he reveals a tight white undershirt, which has ridden up and exposed his glorious abs. “I didn’t bring anything to change into,” he says, a little sheepishly. The rest of the jumpsuit is just hanging off his hips, sticking onto god-knows-what as he smooths his shirt back down.

“You look great,” you quip, then bury your gaze back in the dough, hoping your face doesn’t look as red as it feels. That probably sounded way too flirtatious. If he had found you attractive, you were sure he would have made a move by now. So you do your best to keep your thirst for him secret, and try to focus on how much you value the friendship. “Thank you, so much, for tonight. That really meant a lot to Y/C/N.”

“I’m glad,” he says sincerely, gazing long and earnest into your eyes. “She’s a great kid, Y/N.”

You smile and turn away awkwardly. “She really is.”

You can’t stop sneaking peeks at him as you move through the kitchen. You’ve seen Ubbe bare-chested at the gym plenty of times, and it is an impressive sight, but usually your lust is easier to control. But somehow he looks even more tempting like this. Probably because he’s standing in your kitchen, and it’s not very bright; you’ve just got a few of the over-counter lights on to illuminate your work. So much more intimate than the noisy bustle and full-spectrum fluorescents of the gym. The next thing you go for is a bottle of wine and two glasses. You might need some help staying calm tonight.

You take out two spoons and you both occupy yourselves dropping balls of dough on the baking sheet. You try not to notice when your hands brush as you accidentally scoop from the bowl at the same time, but after he cracked your heart with your daughter tonight, the attraction is just harder to ignore.

When the last batch is in the oven and you’ve both washed your hands, you turn to find Ubbe has put the red hat back on and sat down on your loveseat, under the soft golden glow of your tree. “Come tell Santa what you want for Christmas, little girl,” he quips, offering his lap with sparkling eyes. His wine glass sits empty on the table beside him.

Your heart thrills and you wish it wasn’t just a joke. “Let me get you a refill,” you say, stepping over to pick up the glass at his elbow. But as soon as you are in range, Ubbe grabs you around the middle and pulls you right down onto his knee.

“Oh!” you exclaim. Politeness dictates you should laugh at the joke and then stand up again, but you’ve been dying to feel the insides of these arms for so long that you find yourself just settling in instead, hands softly pressed against his shoulders where they landed, ready to play along and see where he goes with this.

All your fears are soothed by the excitement in Ubbe’s eyes when you focus on his face, suddenly only inches away from your own. Christmas lights reflect softly off his icy blue orbs, and the look lasts just a little too long to be causal. Shouldn’t one of you be saying something?

“I said it wrong, actually.” Ubbe’s deep voice rumbles with a little soft laughter at himself. “Santa doesn’t ask that first. Before I decide if you are getting any presents, I need to know if you’ve been naughty or nice.” There is definitely a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and as he brings up his innocuous question his grip on your waist tightens, a tiny caress in his fingers over your ribs.

Is Ubbe Lothbrok making a move on you?

Your heart starts pounding. You’re not going to miss this chance to flirt back, as corny as the line you think of might be. “I’m a good girl, but Santa…” you pause dramatically and look down, then gaze back up at him through your lashes, “sometimes I want to be naughty.”

A grin breaks over his face that just melts any ability you might have had to resist. He looks absolutely tickled by your quick wit. He tips his head down to look at you with fake seriousness. “I am happy to hear that you’ve been a good girl, Y/N, but I think you’re going to have to tell me more about these naughty thoughts, before I can decide what kind of present you’re getting.”

You take a deep breath, at least three white-hot stabs of arousal making you shift your hips at his words, dripping with implications as you watch his eyes dilate wider as they roam over your face. It’s now or never.

“There’s things I’d like to do, Santa, to—to a friend of mine. Things a good girl wouldn’t do.”

Now he’s the one huffing and puffing, shifting under you while his lips twist with a lascivious smile. He brings his mouth so close that his beard tickles your ear as he murmurs, “Tell me.”

“I want to take him to my bed,” you confess, voice low and sultry. “I want to take off his clothes and rub myself over every inch of his body.”

He lets out his next breath with the tiniest groan, and rubs his face in the crook of your neck.

You’re not sure what’s coming over you but you keep going, crackling with excitement. You said you were a naughty girl, and you suddenly feel the need to prove it. “And when I think about it – and I’ve been thinking about it a lot, Santa – he gets rough with me.”

You feel Ubbe’s grip spasm around your waist.

Now that you’re sure he’s into this, you’re not missing your chance to tell him just how you like it. “Not at first, but once we’re into it. When I imagine it, he spanks me, and tells me what to do.” You marvel a little at your own honesty, but it’s easier without the eye contact. “And then he fucks me. _Hard._ ”

Ubbe lifts his face so he can look you in the eyes again. He looks aroused, and eager, and… a little bit dazed.

“What do you think, Santa?” you ask, reaching up to adjust his red hat. “Is that something you can put on your list?”

His smile is thrilled and full of hunger. “Why wait?” he asks, and pushes forward to kiss you.

You’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. His beard is softer than you expected, and his lips softer still. You are both too excited to start very slow, and at the merest hint of the parting of his lips you open yours too, your tongues pressing to meet each other. His arms slide warm and firm around you, his strong palms exploring your shoulders and flanks.

It’s everything you’ve been wanting for so long. Your body melts into his, your hands playing with the stubble at the back of his neck, roaming over the muscles of his upper arms, satisfying months of restrained impulses. The next song to come on the radio is “All I Want For Christmas Is You” and you almost laugh out loud.

Ubbe’s hand is sneaking under your shirt now, and you moan eagerly into his mouth to encourage him. He pushes it up over your breasts until they’re framed for him, then he presses his mouth in hungry nips along the edges of your lace bra cups. You throw your head back and grind yourself against him, your thigh catching the edge of his hardness for the first time and you almost swoon. This is really happening. Ubbe Lothbrok wants you as much as you want him.

He pushes one bra cup to the side, scooping your breast out with nimble fingers. His thumb brushes over your nipple as he admires it, and he repeats the motion when your back arches in response. He gives a playful growl and takes it into his mouth. His tongue swirls and then he gives you the perfect amount of suction, sending a thrill of heat from his mouth straight to your sex. You moan his name and clutch him to you.

Your hips are grinding into his hardness and you wonder how quick is too quick to take his dick out. You want to savor this experience but you’ve been waiting so long, it’s hard to hold yourself back now.

Ubbe must be feeling the same way. He releases your breast and covers it with his hand again, looking up to catch your eyes as he kneads heartily. “Do you want to take this upstairs?” His voice has gone so deep it’s almost unrecognizable.

You take a big, steadying breath and press your forehead against his. His eyes are brilliant and lusty and slightly terrifying. After all these months of friendship, why has he made this move now? “Yes, but… what are we doing here, Ubbe?”

He inhales sharply and closes his eyes. His hands stop moving across your skin. “I don’t know, Y/N.” His voice is smaller now, and he’s suddenly guarded. “I just… really wanted to know what it would feel like to be with you. Even just once.” When he opens his eyes again, the brightness has clouded over. He pulls your shirt back down and smooths it into place. “I know you don’t think I’m boyfriend material.”

“What?” you blurt.

“I’m really sorry I started this. I hope it doesn’t ruin our friendship. I just…” he sighs like he’s confessing his darkest secret. “I just really like you.”

You slide your hands over the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at you. “Ubbe.” He looks sad, and more than a little embarrassed. “I like you too.” The way your words breathe hope into his eyes sets your body to tingling all over. “Crazy about you, in fact. But I always thought you weren’t attracted to me.”

“Why would you think that?” he rumbles, hand sliding over your ass again. “You are absolutely gorgeous. Not to mention the most fun, and exciting—”

“Now I know you’re teasing me,” you interrupt. “I’m in bed by nine o’clock. I can’t possibly be the most fun person you know.”

Ubbe responds by kissing you again, closing the distance between your faces unexpectedly and pressing softly sucking lips against your own. “I have so much fun when I’m with you,” he says when he pulls away. “ _And_ with your daughter. But you’ve always had this wall up, I kind of assumed you just wanted to be friends.”

“Then why am I in your lap tonight?” you tease.

Ubbe flashes you a self-conscious smile. “The Santa suit was kind of my last-ditch effort? I thought maybe you needed to see that I can be good with your kid, that I’m not afraid of the father-figure thing.”

“Ubbe…” you say, your voice a little sobered. You are indeed very careful for your daughter’s sake, not wanting to let her get too close to a guy that just might leave.

“I know that all comes with time.” His eyebrows are high as he pleads you to recognize that he’s serious. “I just want you to know that it doesn’t bother me, that you have Y/C/N, and that I’m ready for it. I want to be a part of her life too. _If_ you’ll let me.”

“Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say; your heart is soaring and you want to joke about tonight turning out to be a Christmas miracle, but you don’t want to make too light of this important topic, either. “You’re great with her, I’ve seen that already.”

Ubbe’s lip twitches into a proud smile.

You reach down to find his hand, watch your fingers weaving in between his as you think. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” you confess. “That you actually want me.”

“Me too,” Ubbe says. “We can take our time, getting used to the idea.” He presses a few soft kisses to your neck, beard tickling your skin pleasantly. “Maybe this will help?” The kisses continue, around to the nape of your neck, then back up the side, nose brushing the shell of your ear as he hides a few more behind it.

The brush of his lips is making you squirm, and the sensation of squirming in Ubbe’s lap is only turning you on more. You sigh into the long hair gathered loosely at the top of his head, pulling your sensitive skin away from his hungry mouth. “Yes. Upstairs. Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

You hold Ubbe’s hand as you lead him up to your bedroom, like you’re high school kids on your first date. It doesn’t match the passion coursing through your body. But your house is littered with laundry and discarded toys, and it would just feel silly to try and have one of those romantic-movie “push me against the wall and carry me up the stairs” transitions in here.

Your daughter’s room is in the front of the house and yours is in the back, with a bathroom in between, so after you tiptoe up the stairs you’re not really worried about her hearing anything. She always sleeps like a rock at this hour, anyway. So when you pull Ubbe into your bedroom and close the door, it’s easy to relax into the privacy and allow yourself to enjoy this moment without reservations.

You flipped the light on when you walked in, but Ubbe shuts it off as soon as you close the door, pressing the front of his body against the back of yours and kissing your neck in only the moonlight streaming through your window. His big arms wrap around you and just squeeze tightly at first, holding you safe and warm against him. He moves like he’s so happy to have you that he doesn’t know how he wants to start.

You twist in his arms, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss as you tug him toward the bed. You’re feeling a little more nervous, suddenly, and judging by the awkwardness of his movements, Ubbe might be feeling the same way. You try and pull him to lay down on the bed with you but he hesitates.

“These boots take a minute to get off,” he admits, lifting one foot to show the combat boot he’s got the cuff of his Santa suit stuffed into. “They were the only black boots I had.”

“That’s ok,” you reassure him, sliding up to sit against the headboard as he bends and works at the laces. “I admire your commitment to the costume.”

“I do my best.” Something about the way that his hands move as he loosens the boots and tosses them off is extremely arousing to you. Whatever it is, it’s even stronger when he unbuckles the belt that was holding the ridiculous red suit up. You realize you’ve just been staring when Ubbe turns and looks over at you, belt still folded in his hand. “Did you mean what you said down there, about the rough stuff?”

You barely restrain the urge to suck in your breath through your teeth. Does he know what he’s doing to you, asking you that while holding a thick leather belt casually in one hand? You can’t really read Ubbe’s face, you’re not sure if he wants you to say yes or no. “Uh huh,” you say, “but we don’t have to start with any of that if you don’t want.”

He cocks his head and holds your eyes with a long, considering look. “Come over here.”

You shiver, but you don’t get up yet. “What are you going to do if I do?”

His smirk is teasing, but there is a yearning underneath. “I’m gonna bend you over my knee and give you the kind of spanking a ‘naughty girl’ deserves.”

You rise up onto your knees on the bed, ready to crawl over to his lap.

“Take your pants off first.”

Your Ubbe was more of a Dom than you had dared to hope. You thrill as you comply with his order, thankful that you happened to put on one of your more attractive pairs of panties today. He’s already got you feeling the exact mix of eager and self-conscious, nervous and exposed and excited that you crave. This may be your first sexual encounter, but he was going to learn what a sub you are sooner or later. Might as well be right away.

Ubbe strips the rest of the red suit off at the same time, sitting back down on the edge of your bed in only his white undershirt and dark green boxer briefs. His eyes settle back into that lustful haze as he looks at your exposed thighs; he croons an approving noise deep in his throat and motions you over.

You try to look graceful as you crawl across the bed and over his lap; he sits back to give you room but slides one reassuring hand over your flank as you set yourself across his knees. “That’s it.” You settle with your belly on his lap, his warm thighs with their soft fuzz of hair comforting and grounding you immediately. Your knees and elbows are cushioned in mattress on either side of him. You keep your back arched so your ass looks as tempting as possible, and give it a little wiggle when you’re ready.

You’ve braced yourself for pain but the first thing you feel is Ubbe’s warm palm stroking boldly over your cheeks. You can’t help but hum at the pleasurable sensation of him exploring all your newly-exposed flesh.

“You have one fine fucking ass, naughty girl,” he rumbles. “I promise I won’t hurt it too badly.”

“Do whatever you have to do, I can take it,” you taunt back. The context is new but it’s the same attitude of teasing challenge you two take with each other at the gym all the time.

He just shakes his head a little as he smiles down on you, like he knows better. “And once I’m done with your punishment, you’ll be a nice girl for me next, yes?”

“Fuck, Ubbe,” you say, breaking character to let him know just how badly his dirty talk is turning you on.

“It’s not too much?” he asks, taking the chance to check in on how you feel about the little game.

You shake your head. “Fuck no, I love this kind of stuff.”

His face is pleased as he lifts his belt. He twists and takes up your arms with his other hand, looping the belt quickly around your wrists and cinching it into a makeshift restraint. “I don’t plan to do anything that needs a safeword tonight, but we should probably have one.”

“You know ‘red light, yellow light’?” you ask. You’re both relaxing more now, as you each realize the other seems to know about kink safety already.

“You got it, babe,” Ubbe responds, tugging once on your wrists and then returning his attention to your ass. He rubs broad circles with his palm, and you can’t help but press yourself up into his hand. “So eager,” he murmurs appreciatively.

 _Crack._ His first strike is harder than you expected, stinging a bit and drawing a gasping little moan out of your lungs. _Crack._ You hold your breath for the next one, but that only seems to spur him to keep hitting harder, faster, until he makes you break with a cry that comes out like half a sob.

Instantly his hand is rubbing soothing circles again, and you can feel how hot your flesh has gotten there already. “You took that so well, bad girl.” His hum is half mocking and half comfort. “Are you ready to be a good girl now?”

You hold your breath for a suspenseful second. “No,” you answer cheekily.

Ubbe’s soft guffaw tells you that he’s a little impressed. “You asked for it. I know what to do with naughty girls.”

His next assault is more intense than the last, and when your body starts to curl up he grabs the strap of the belt and yanks your arms out straight again, reminding you not to recoil. The pull of the restraint helps you stay focused as you muffle your final yelps into your own upper arm.

Your whole body relaxes when he smooths his hand over your hot skin again. The contrast is such an amazing rush; caring, pleasurable touches after such a burst of violence. Ubbe’s slow pressure dips between your cheeks, teasing at the sensitive areas still covered by the thin strip of your panties. It feels so fucking good you have to swallow a sob. “I’m ready to be your good girl now,” you say truthfully.

Ubbe chuckles a little, a masculine, masterful sound that you hope to hear many more times. You twist your face up to look at his; as your eyes connect his gaze slides into a surprisingly soft look, like he can’t believe his luck to find you in his lap. You smile sweetly and he guides you to come back up onto your knees beside him.

Your lips connect and you both get lost in each other for a while. The role-play is probably over; this is just your first time together after all, and you are eager to get to know him in a whole variety of ways. Still, you keep his belt on your wrists until he says otherwise.

Soon you are stretched out on your back in the middle of the bed with Ubbe rising over you, just as you had fantasized about a million times before. Letting your bodies relax and fall together, your legs twisting and mingling as your hips start to dance together in a light prelude to what must be coming later. Your arms are looped around his neck, keeping him close.

Ubbe’s strong hand slides up and down your body, teasing at all your curves like he can’t decide what he wants to play with next. You buck your hips every time he gets near your sex. “Please,” you whisper in his ear, rocking yourself wantonly against him.

Ubbe pulls back far enough to grin into your face. “Since you ask so nicely… good girls get rewards.” His eyes twinkle as he grabs the waist of your panties and whisks them down your thighs.

He ducks out of the loop of your arms, still bound together with his belt, and presses your wrists down against the pillow above your head. He looks over your open and exposed body one more time with lidded eyes before sliding himself down to pull your panties the rest of the way off.

You keep your hands obediently over your head as Ubbe kisses his way up the inside of your thighs. His soft beard tickles a little, but the sensation is pleasant, and only heightens the sensory overload as he starts to tease around your opening with his breath and lips. Gently, he pushes your legs apart wider, and cradles them there as he licks across your inner lips, tongue broad and heavy. The long stroke ends at your clit, which he begins to circle so slowly that you have to twist and call out for more. Ubbe growls into you and complies with gusto, speeding up the flicking of his tongue. The boy is _good._ He doesn’t slow down, fingers clutching at you absently and soft noises of enjoyment crooning out of his throat until you can feel your climax rising fast, all your limbs starting to feel heavy and tingly. After all the build-up of tonight, and now being under his masterful tongue, it’s not going to take much more. “Ubbe…” you moan in warning.

“Oh, please, come for me, Y/N” he gasps, then redoubles his efforts until your body arches and all that tingling explodes at once.

His mouth keeps rocking against you until he’s sure you’re done, then he wipes his face and pulls his body up alongside yours. “How was that?” he asks shyly as he takes the belt off your wrists and rubs your arms a little.

You give a loud, satisfied groan in response. “I don’t even want to _move._ ”

He smiles down at you. “You don’t have to.” His gaze travels softly over your relaxing body. “I’ll get you some water.”

You watch him get up in your still-shimmering haze, noting the he’s still mostly hard in those tight little boxer briefs that can’t hide anything. He seems to be trying to be polite, but you’re not going to let the night just be over.

When you hear Ubbe’s steps creaking back up the stairs, you arrange yourself a little more seductively amongst the pillows, lose the shirt that has somehow miraculously stayed on until this point and fluff up your breasts inside your bra. Ubbe comes in with two glasses of water and sits on the edge of the bed. “Relax,” he says as he hands you one.

You take a hearty gulp but keep your mischievous gaze fixed on him over the rim. “There’s still one thing left on that Christmas list I gave Santa.”

Ubbe’s eyes sparkle eagerly and he takes the glass away from you. “Oh yes, your naughty list. Let’s see, I definitely remember something about getting me in your bed…” He looks down at the sheets and you tug him with a giggle to lay down next to you again.

“I already got that one,” you say as you pull him in to kiss you again. Now that your hands are free you are determined to take advantage, running them down his broad chest and stripping him of his undershirt. He has just the right amount of hair in the center of his chest, masculine without being overwhelming.

You want to look at him but Ubbe won’t stop trying to kiss you; his lips land on your forehead, your temple, the side of your neck as you squirm to keep ogling him while your hands travel over his body. He hisses in your ear when your palm finally travels over his barely restrained cock. “I remember now,” he groans after you’ve been squeezing him for a while, “the last thing on your list started with an ‘F’.” His crystal blue eyes catch yours. “But only if you really want to. This is just our first night together.”

Your heart sings at his considerate restraint, and the reminder that he doesn’t want this to be just a one-night thing either. You shake your head. “I fucking want you so bad, Ubbe. I want to, if you do.”

He makes an animalistic noise in his throat as he stares down at you. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long. I don’t want to hold back either.”

“Then don’t,” you say, pulling his head down for another kiss with one hand while you squeeze his impressive girth with the other. Just the thought of taking that cock inside you has you squirming and mewling.

It’s a team effort to get his boxers off, and Ubbe wants your bra off too. Then he pushes you back down and looms over your body, looking you up and down like he’s trying to memorize everything. He leans down and suddenly hesitates. “Do you want a condom?” he asks, a little awkwardly.

Ah, the less-than-romantic concerns of reality. “I’m on birth control, but we probably should,” you say softly. “We can talk more about it later. There should be one in the drawer there,” you add, pointing to the bedside table.

Ubbe gives you a reassuring smile and leans over the side of the bed. “Among other things,” he says when he opens the drawer. You keep all your sex toys there too. “Some of these look like fun for later.” He fishes out a condom and you take the opportunity to explore his cock and balls with your hands while he’s distracted. His balls feel tight, he’s so ready for you, and he makes the most adorable wheezing sort of gasps when you run your hand in a soft grip up and around his shaft.

You put the rubber on him together, but when Ubbe climbs back over you he doesn’t move to line himself up right away. His first two fingers disappear into his mouth and then curl against your opening, coaxing and sweet, making sure you’re ready for him. He doesn’t stop until he’s pumping in and out of you so good that your eyes are screwed shut and you’re fucking yourself over his hand.

You would be disappointed when his fingers finally slip out of you, if you didn’t know what was coming next. His blunt head quickly replaces them, and he cages your face between his hands, propping himself up on his elbows above you, before he starts to slowly press himself inside.

The feeling is immediate and overwhelming. From the very first moment, Ubbe’s cock feels like it belongs there inside you, and every moment of his slow slide fills you more and more completely. You feel the walls of your cunt welcoming him, with a tingling so sweet it almost brings tears to your eyes. Ubbe looks just as struck by the feeling as he stares down at you, lips parted and eyes awed. You both close your lids in sweet savoring as your hips lock together and he hits the end. He whispers your name.

You slide your hands over his bare shoulders, across the back of his neck. “Ubbe,” you answer, unable to form any other words to tell him how good this feels. But when you lock eyes again you know he knows, he’s feeling the same way too. He drops his forehead to yours as he starts to move, drawing out slowly so that he can slide his whole length into you again, the whole time staring at you like this is something he can barely believe is happening.

It feels so good this slow, but the urge for more starts to creep up in both of you, as your hips begin to press together more and more insistently. The overwhelming emotions of the beginning are fading into something more purely lustful. “There was something about you wanting to get fucked hard, wasn’t there?” Ubbe teases when he can finally find his voice again.

You groan and pull him to you even more tightly. “Fuck, yes.”

Ubbe rocks slightly to the side and pulls your leg up, bending it so he can loop his arm around the back of your knee. You shiver in anticipation of how deep that’s going to make this feel. “Just making sure I check everything off your list,” he teases, then grins and starts pumping.

The contrast makes your head spin. This is intensity of a different kind, the pleasure white-hot and shearing through your core. You give up control of the rhythm and just let him pound you. Encouraging little cries are squeezing from your throat with every stroke. His hair is getting disheveled and his face is flushing above you; his eyes are wild with a savage sort of joy.

With a short gasp he pulls away, squares himself and tugs at your legs to rearrange them until both your calves are set on his shoulders. His grin is ferocious as he lines himself up again.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” is all you can say as he drives into you again. You feel entirely helpless in this position, your ass off the ground and at the mercy of Ubbe’s relentless cock. He gives you no quarter as he rails into you this time, the stronger stance making it easier for him to keep up the punishing pace. You wail his name and twist your hands in the sheets as another scorching orgasm starts to rise under the onslaught.

It seems like you must have come at the same time. All you know for sure is that Ubbe is groaning like a beast and slows down at the perfect time, just when you’ve ridden out your climax to the over-sensitive end point. He drops your hips to the bed without pulling out, following you down so that he’s nestled between your legs as he rests his forehead on yours. You catch your breaths together, staring into each others’ eyes.

You don’t know what to say. All your dreams about Ubbe have come true tonight. He doesn’t say anything either, and after a moment he drops his head into the crook of your neck and just holds you. His deflating cock is slowly slipping out, but you like the feeling of keeping him there until the last possible second. Eventually he rolls off and curls into your side with a contented sigh.

“The cookies!” you shout suddenly, disturbing the peace and sitting up quickly. “They must be burnt to crisps!”

“Relax,” Ubbe soothes with a hand on your shoulder, “I took them out when I went downstairs.” He pulls you back to nestle against him again. “They’re… just a little burnt,” he confesses. “But I'll take that batch. My brothers won't care.” He chuckles into your hair. “They’ll be more likely to believe I made them that way.”

“You’re not much of a baker?”

“Afraid not,” he says, nuzzling into you. “I will probably have to confess that my new girlfriend helped me.”

You hum as he squeezes you tighter. This is almost too good to be true. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Ubbe says, lifting his upper body far enough to look you in the eyes. “How did I get so lucky to find that not only are you into me, but you're into the same freaky shit as me too?” His hand closes over your wrist, pushing it against the bed in a mimicking of restraint.

You wiggle your head saucily as you gaze up at him. “You don't know, I might be freakier than you.”

He leans in, that handsome, icy face giving away nothing. “You might,” he says with a jumping eyebrow. Then he brings his lips to your cheek, just in front of your ear. His beard tickles your skin in a way that makes you squirm under him as he whispers: “I’m looking forward to finding out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed my soul!! Tell me, how you do you feeeeeeel?


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